been reading a fuckload of beat literature recently, and I think Kerouac is by far my favorite. I love the guy to death. I’m in the middle of “On The Road”, right now. I really dig it, man. I feel spiritually bonded to Kerouac as I read. I feel this deep connection with him, it’s bizarre. People just don’t write like that anymore. Burroughs, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Cassady, all dead and gone.I’m reading “Big Sur” next, I can’t hardly wait.
damn friendzoned again
i just watched a man fuck a hot pocket in the year of our lord 2014